Royal Weddings by Clare Connelly

Author:Clare Connelly [Connelly, Clare]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-05-06T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

For the second time in her life, Rebecca felt her fingers itch with the desire to slap this man.

“If you think I would ever leave this baby, then you’ve got another thing coming, Tariq.” She pulled herself up to her full height, tilting her chin defiantly. “You’re stuck with me, your highness. I’m sorry if that ruins any plans you and Monique might have had.”

He clenched his jaw, visibly trying to quell his emotions.

“You should go to bed, Rebecca. It is late, and you must get used to thinking of the baby you are carrying.”

She let out a groan of annoyance. “You really are the most insufferably arrogant bastard.”

“Guilty as charged,” he nodded. “We can speak tomorrow about our plans for the future. For now, sleep.”

What a joke, she thought, hitting the pillow several hours later. She’d counted the mosaic pieces in the detailed little lamp beside the bed, and mentally unpacked her suitcases, but sleep continued to elude her. Despite the bone weary exhaustion that she’d felt only a little while earlier, she was now alert, and filled with adrenalin.

The most pressing matter to consider was this baby. Her relationship with Tariq was far, far from perfect. But she’d fallen in love with him, so their baby had been conceived with love. On her part, at least. As for Tariq, Rebecca groaned as she thought of him now, and the beautiful Monique. How had she missed the fact that they were seeing one another? She was blindly trusting and always had been, and she had wanted a friend. Were they signs she should have picked up on?

They’d never discussed the issue of fidelity. Before marrying him, Rebecca had done her research, though. Polygamy was outlawed in Assan, and harems and mistresses were all a thing of the ancient past. Or so she had believed. But, like any culture the world over, marriage certificates were not a guarantee of faithfulness.

But the very thing she loved most about Tariq was his character. He was strong, indomitable, and honourable. The idea that he’d been slipping away from her to sleep with Monique... if she didn’t know it to be true then she’d almost think it was impossible.

But it was more than possible. It was the truth. Cold, hard fact. Apparently everyone but her had known about it.

She pushed back the crisp white sheets and moved across the room, padding quietly despite the fact she was alone for miles. Out of her window, she could see Assan’s capital city. A blanket of low-rise buildings, with some lights twinkling prettily beneath the pre-dawn sky.

Her mother – her real mother – had always said that a cup of tea solved the world’s problems, and she’d grown to believe that was an incontrovertible truth. Wrapping a robe around her nightie-clad self, she pulled open her door and made her way through the palace. At the first security agent she saw, she made enquiries for the kitchen and was guided there in person.

“Thank you,” she said dismissively, impressing herself with how accustomed she’d become to giving orders.

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